


Destiny Has Nothing to Do With It

by xxxillusionxxx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fluff, Kidnapping, M/M, Mates, based on art, seer!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-14 23:38:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1282879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxillusionxxx/pseuds/xxxillusionxxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Stiles is rescued by Derek and his pack and even though he knows that Scott, his best friend, his brother, is waiting for him to return, Stiles never wants the trip back to end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://xiaopa25.tumblr.com/image/78858679742) amazing fanart. Not beta'd as usual.

Stiles sat on the large window sill, his elaborate silky robes billowed around him in the cool evening breeze. He sighed as he heard a knock on his door. He didn’t bother calling out and a young girl peeked inside, quickly dropping to the floor in dramatic supplication. Stiles rolled his eyes. 

“I’m so sorry my Lord, they’re looking for you in the main hall,” she said quickly, remaining prostrate on the floor. 

Stiles ignored the girl, looking instead at the moonlight peaking though the twining branches in front of his window. 

“My Lord? I apologize but I was instructed to escort you to the main hall…” she said after two full minutes of silence.

Stiles glanced over at the girl, he had never seen her before but that meant very little. She looked out of her depth, like she desperately wanted to hand her responsibility off to someone else. Stiles couldn’t make himself feel very sorry for her. 

“Get up for Goddess sake. I’ll be out in a minute,” he said, making no move to get up. 

The girl stood up slowly and hesitated when she saw that Stiles wasn’t moving. He stared at her impassively and she backed out of the room slowly, shutting the door behind her.

Stiles sighed and let the image of the night sky wash over him for another moment before he slipped off the window sill and ran his fingers through his hair. He contemplated wearing the soft slippers they kept leaving in his room but decided that going barefoot was one small rebellion that he could get away with. 

He opened the door and squinted against the bright candle-light. He walked in the direction he knew lead to the main hall, ignoring the two guards who followed closely behind him. The young girl who was sent for him trailed behind the guards, hardly able to keep up with Stiles’s quick pace. 

Stiles scowled at the large doors of the main hall but didn’t hesitate to throw them open. The room fell silent and Stiles felt the weight of many stares prickling his back neck but he stayed focused on the raised throne in the center of the room. He made no move to bow when he stopped at the base.

The king waved his hand and the two guards who followed Stiles in walked around to stand at either side of the throne. 

“Prince Stiles, it’s been awhile since we last talked. Have you had time to consider my offer?”

Stiles kept his face carefully blank as he stared up at the old man. He said nothing and the king’s kind smile turned down. 

“Child, I have been nothing if not a gracious and _patient_ host. If you refuse to swear fealty to me today, then we’ll make another deal. You have two choices. You may either act as my lie detector for the visiting dignitaries tomorrow, or you may spend another week in the dungeon,” the man said, coldly.

Stiles looked down at his feet to hide the flash of fury in his eyes. The king, clearly not expecting an answer, waved his hand again and the guards rejoined Stiles at his side.  
“I’ll see you tomorrow, young man,” the king said with a smile in his voice.

Stiles didn’t even bother looking up. He turned on his heel and walked silently out of the room and back towards his chambers. Even after spending over a year and a half with their constant company, Stiles still couldn’t stand the overbearing presence of the guards that followed him everywhere. 

\-------------------------------------------

In his room Stiles walked straight up to the table in the corner of the room and threw the painted porcelain vase resting there onto the floor. It shattered with a satisfactory crunch and he stared down at the broken pieces while he tried to catch his breath.

He used to say no; used to refuse any and all ‘requests’ that the mad king made of him, but he was tired. He was trapped, inside, cut off from the thrum of living things except for the rose stems wrapping up his arms, torso, and throat. It was a symbol of his status as a warrior, and the only thing that the king suffered him to keep. 

Stiles was tired of being beaten and starved for compliance. He knew he would be expected tomorrow and he intended to do what needed to be done to survive here. Sooner or later, he vowed, he would make it back to his home and his people. For now, he just had to suffer through. 

Stiles sat back on the window sill, absorbing what energy he could in the wind. He extended his mind beyond the castle walls, beyond the crowded town surrounding them, over the miles of mountain to the dark forest he knew better than he knew himself. 

He narrowed his focus on a familiar hut and watched his father eating dinner with Melissa. His hands moved eagerly as he spoke with her, but there was a weight on his shoulders and dark shadows hung heavy under his eyes. As always, Stiles tried desperately to reach him, to give him some sign that he was still alive and ok, but neither of them noticed his presence. He fell asleep with his mind drifting easily around the forest, following the wolves and the bats to and fro.

\------------------------------------

Stiles stood silently to the back left of the throne. Apparently representatives of the neighboring kingdom were coming to negotiate a trade route through the mountains, which, so far has been hotly debated as a territory dispute between the two nations. 

Before the representatives arrived, the King was taking appeals from his people and Stiles had to stand through the whole thing so as not to arouse suspicion among the senate members. Stiles had fought a long, silent battle with his servants that morning over whether or not he should take off his stems. Mostly, he threatened them with a candle stick while they whispered at him desperately to just cooperate. Stiles walked out the victor as usual. 

Stiles felt his eyes getting heavy and he swayed on his feet. A servant rushed up to him with a glass in his hand. Stiles peered at the dark liquid and pushed it away. He did not consume alcohol and the servants knew this. Alcohol tended to jumble his mind and made it harder for him to block out the whispers that spoke to him always. He glared over at the king, seeing his genuine smile and knowing that he was putting them up to this. Stiles sighed and accepted that he was going to be very thirsty this afternoon.  
After four hours of appeals, Stiles was more than ready to just go back to sleep. His mouth felt like a desert and he was sure that if he did not get something to drink soon he would faint where he stood. 

“Presenting from the house of Hale, Lord Derek and Lady Lydia!” the man at the door called imperiously. 

Finally, he was almost done. 

A large, dark-haired man dressed in simple black leathers walked up to the base of the throne, followed by a lovely red-haired maiden dressed similarly but with more green and brown. Stiles felt his interest peak as the woman reminded him of fire. He desperately wanted to touch her and feel if her energy really was in synch with that of fire itself, but he swallowed his impulse and focused on the man.

If she was of fire, he was of steel. His eyes were a bright blue but his whole being was cold and hard, right down to his small scowl. The lord’s eyes met his for a moment and Stiles felt a shock of something rush up his spine. He shivered as the man turned his attention to the king. 

“Your highness,” he said in a monotone. 

“Lord Derek, I haven’t seen you since you were quite young. Tell me, how fair’s your lovely sister?”

Derek’s face didn’t even twitch but Stiles felt a wave of rage and devastation roll over him. 

“She is dead, your highness,” he said just as plainly. 

“Oh, how unfortunate,” the king said sounding not at all sorry, “Then may I ask how my dear son and granddaughter are doing?”

“They are well, your highness,” he said. 

Stiles knew very little about the dynamics of these kingdoms. His forest was very near the border of these two lands but was so dense and so far from civilization that he never truly worried about the affairs of the greater nations beyond his tribe. He bitterly regretted his trips to the edge of the forest now. 

“Formalities aside, tell me what my son is suggesting we do about the common lands this time?” the king asked. 

“The king Christopher proposes that a trade route be opened through the western mountains between our two nations. He intends to find compromise with you over the next year, but for now, believes that opening trade will benefit both nations,” the lady said. 

The king glanced over at Stiles. He was looking for confirmation that this was the truth. Stiles couldn’t taste the bitterness that lies usually left on his tongue. He nodded his head and the king looked back at the two representatives in front of him. 

“I will consider this proposition. Tonight you are my guests and I shall give you your answer tomorrow,” he said. 

With that the two bowed and headed out the room without even looking back. Stiles was forced to stand through another two hours of petitions before he was dismissed to his bedroom. 

\----------------------------------------

In his room he drank almost a whole pitcher of water before deciding that he deserved a long, hot bath for his effort. Stiles asked two of the servants he passed in the hallway to fetch water for his room. He didn’t bother asking them to heat it up. 

When they finished filling the tub he dismissed them and they rushed out of his chambers. He slipped his robes off and stepped into the cool water, pushing energy out of his body until the water was steaming. He sank down, feeling both his own joy and the tiny thrill vibrating from the stems at being submerged in water. 

As much as he hated this place, he did love this tub. Stiles sank down and relaxed against the deep walls of the tub. He wavered between sleep and wakefulness, losing track of time as the watered cooled and the sky grew dark. 

When he pulled himself out of the cool water, his skin was pruned and his whole body felt completely relaxed. When he came out of the bathroom, he realized that someone had left dinner for him at some point. He looked over the contents of the dish with distaste, taking only the slice of bread and the apple that were left beside the plate. 

Stiles threw on a loose nightgown and bit into his apple. He slipped onto the windowsill and went between eating and drifting into the world outside the castle. He fell asleep holding a half-eaten apple and leaning against the cool glass. 

\----------------------------------

Stiles jerked awake. It was still dark out and he could hear nothing. He looked around his room and saw nothing, but his body stayed tense because someone was definitely in this room with him. He reached at his side for a knife he knew wasn’t there before narrowing his eyes and trying to locate whoever was in the room. 

“Who’s there?” he asked.

Silence. Then there was a figure appearing from the shadows at the opposite end of the room. Stiles didn’t move. He didn’t sense any bad intentions coming from the figure but he still didn’t know what they were here for. 

The man stepped into the moonlight and Stiles sucked in a breath. Lord Derek stood a few feet away from Stiles, looking at him intensely, like he was expecting something. 

“What do you want?” Stiles asked.

His words felt weird on his tongue after so many months of silence, but somehow he felt like he had to speak to this man.  
“My name’s Derek. You’re Stiles, right?” he said quietly.

Stiles tilted his head and nodded slowly. 

“I’m here to rescue you,” he continued, smiling. 

Stiles gaped at the man. He was being honest. 

“Why? I don’t know you,” Stiles said suspiciously.

Derek stepped forward and before he realized what he was doing, Derek dragged Stiles’s face down into a hard kiss. Stiles’s eyes widened as he was assaulted by images. _A young girl with dark hair and a familiar, dark-skinned boy walking hand in hand. The girl with a crown on her head and the boy smiling up at her. The boy crying to the young girl and the young girl speaking to a young king. Derek and Lydia taking orders from the young girl, standing next to the young boy._

Stiles pushed Derek away and gasped, looking at him in shock. 

“Scott said that if you didn’t believe me I should just kiss you…” Derek said slowly, looking confused. 

Stiles shook his head and pushed all of his questions aside. What mattered was that Scott had trusted these people so he would too. 

“How do you plan on getting me out of here? They keep security pretty tight in this wing,” Stiles asked.

Derek’s grin looked feral and his eyes glowed blue for a quick second. 

“Don’t worry, Lydia’s taking care of that,” he said. 

\------------------------------------------------

The next morning Lord Derek, Lady Lydia, and their small entourage left the castle. It wasn’t until that evening that anyone realized that Stiles was gone as well. 

\------------------------------------------------

They abandoned the small cart that Stiles had hidden in among books and produce as soon as they made it a few miles outside of the town.

“We’ll move faster without it,” Derek said, handing the reigns of an extra horse over to Stiles. 

Stiles looked regretfully at the books but took the horse gratefully. Stiles unbuckled the saddle and removed the bit and reigns from the horse, tossing them all with the cart. Derek raised his eyebrow as Stiles threw himself over the horse’s back. 

“You wouldn’t need all that equipment if you learned how to truly ride a horse. Besides, they run quicker and freer without it,” Stiles said, urging his horse forward without any further thought. 

“Don’t even think about it,” he heard Lydia say behind him.

He couldn’t pay the comment much mind because the wind was flying across his face and through his hair and the world around him was vibrating with life and energy. His skin thrummed and he laughed giddily as he felt freedom for the first time in over a year. He could hear the songs of the birds and the earth and it took him a long time to remember the rest of his party enough to pull back and wait for them to catch up.

\-------------------------------------

“Don’t even think about it,” Lydia said. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Derek said lightly, mounting his horse with practiced ease. 

He took off after Stiles and Lydia followed, easily keeping his pace. 

“I mean it, Derek, his father is the chief of their tribe. If you break his heart, you’re going to have both his legendary tribe and Lady Allison out to get you for it,” she said. 

“Isn’t he supposed to be like, magic or something?” Isaac asked, riding alongside Lydia. 

“He’s the Seer. Scott said he can read minds and talk to nature or something like that,” Derek replied.

“Yeah, whatever that’s supposed to mean,” Isaac said, pulling ahead as they tried to catch up to the boy. 

“All I’m saying, is don’t do anything stupid,” Lydia said, following Isaac.

“I never do,” Derek growled, kicking his horse to urge it to go faster.


	2. Chapter 2

The first few days went by in a blur. The group rode hard long after the sun went down only to wake before dawn and do the same thing again. While Stiles understood the need to get across the border as quickly as possible, he began to worry for the health of the horses. Their life energy was dimming with each passing day. 

He was thankful when Derek finally slowed their pace to an inconspicuous walk. They stopped just as the sun was setting to make camp.

Stiles spent some time with each horse, brushing their fur with his fingers and healing their aches as best he could with the life energy of the Earth. He had tended to the horses since day one, but he had never had enough time to really connect with them and soothe their minds until now. 

The others busied themselves making camp and collecting wood. Stiles was so absorbed by the gentle rhythm of his horse’s energy that he didn’t notice the boy coming up behind him. 

“Why do you do that?” he asked, jolting Stiles from his concentration. 

“Um, the pace has been hurting them, so I’m trying to keep them healthy,” Stiles replied.

His voice still sounded foreign to his own ears after being so long unused. No one had spoken to him on the trip so far except to see that he was well or to tell him to eat or drink. They had all been too tired to speak more than that whenever they stopped. 

The boy tilted his head and looked at Stiles curiously. 

“Huh, I’m Isaac,” he said, extending his hand. 

Stiles looked down at the offered hand then up at Isaac’s face cautiously. He couldn’t know what he was offering him, could he? Stiles didn’t want to invade his privacy, but he had never mastered filtering thoughts and memories out when he was making physical contact with someone.

Isaac began to frown when he hesitated so Stiles quickly grabbed his hand, hoping for the best. Immediately he was assaulted by a flood of memories.

_Pain, pain, desperation, darkness. A smiling woman, a stern man. Darkness, fear. Abandonment, loneliness, desperation. A bright-eyed child, warmth, hope, home._

Stiles resisted the urge to follow the memories deeper and released Isaac’s hand as soon as he shook it. Isaac was smiling brightly at him and Stiles felt a twinge in his chest that such a good person had to go through so much in his young life. 

“Isaac, stop fooling around and help me put up these tarps!” a blonde girl called, reminding Stiles of where he was and with whom. 

“Alright, one minute!” Isaac called back, shaking his head before pinning Stiles with a look. 

“That’s Erica. She’s pretty rough around the edges but her heart’s in the right place. I’m going to help her make camp. When you’re done…whatevering with the horses, you should go talk to Derek,” he leaned in closer and lowered his voice, “Don’t tell him I told you, but he’s been watching you like a puppy for a good majority of our flight. I think he likes your butt.”

Stiles flushed and looked around even though he knew that Derek and Lydia were off looking for fire wood. He opened his mouth then closed it when he couldn’t come up with anything to say to that. Isaac laughed and patted Stiles on the shoulder.

Glee, favors owed, interest

 

“I’ll see you later, Stiles,” Isaac said before dashing across the cleared area to Erica. 

Stiles shook his head and thought about what Isaac was implying. Derek was interested in him? He hadn’t been lying but still, it didn’t seem likely. Maybe he was just misunderstanding his concern for attraction. Stiles leaned back into the comfort of his mare. Suddenly he was curious about his dark-haired rescuer. 

 

After caring for the horses, Stiles didn’t know what to do with himself. Isaac and Erica refused his help with making camp so he grabbed the bow and quiver of arrows he had found on Lydia’s horse and wandered deeper into the woods to find something fresh for dinner. 

He didn’t search at first, simply became acquainted with the feel of the forest under his bare feet, the sound of the wind in the trees, the quiet trickle of a nearby creek. Ever so slowly he extended his view. His mind stretched beyond his body, cataloging the unfamiliar terrain and life. 

Once he was more comfortable with the lay of the land he did a quick sweep for prey. His mind struck out, life forces pinging against his own as he passed them until he spotted a small herd of deer. He snapped back into his own body and walked quickly and quietly toward the creek they were drinking from. 

He stayed close to the ground as he moved, using the trees and boulders for cover as he got close enough to take one down. Crouched half behind an old trunk, he knocked an arrow and pulled the draw-string against his cheek, taking aim. 

He was just about to let loose the arrow when he felt a ripple in the trees and a tension in the air. He carefully relaxed his grip just as the first deer jerked up in alertness, looking at the trees behind her. Just as she relaxed back into her task a large dark blur fell on the herd.

A doe went down and the rest scattered, running off in different directions. Stiles stood up and stepped closer to the creek, trying to make out what creature had taken his kill. He didn’t even bother keeping himself hidden. Stiles had yet to meet a wild creature that would dare attack him.

The animal lifted its head. A wolf. It scented the air and turned bright blue eyes on Stiles. Stiles stopped where he was and looked curiously at the wolf. Something about it seemed so familiar. 

The wolf made a strange, huffing sound before leaping across the creek and bounding right up to Stiles, sniffing at his side and legs. Stiles rested his hand against the creature’s head and his eyes widened in recognition.

_Earth and citrus, so good, why is he here?_

“Derek?” Stiles asked.

_Obviously. How does he know?_

“Because I can hear what you’re thinking when I touch you. Should I let go?”

_Seriously? Wow, that’s terrifying. Yeah uh no it’s fine. What are you doing out here?_

“Same as you, I think. Hunting,” Stiles said, smiling. 

_Beautiful. Hunting. Aren’t you, like, all about the earth or something?_

Stiles huffed. 

“I’m chosen by the Goddess, yes, but I’m also a warrior! I wear my mark of the Goddess and my path,” he said, gesturing to the thorny vines wrapped around his body, “And I can damn well hunt my own food, thank you very much.”

_Ha, warrior. Oh shit, I mean, doesn’t that hurt?_

“Spar with me if you’re so doubtful. And living plants can’t hurt me. Want to see something cool?” Stiles asked, remembering the seeds he had picked up the other night. 

_Yeah, no. I’m not trying to get exiled. It’s alive? Yes?_

Stiles backed away from Derek, somewhat disappointed to be cut off from his stream of consciousness. He fished around his pocked for one of the tiny seeds, lifting it up so that Derek could get a good look at it. 

“Watch this,” he said, closing the seed into his palm and listening for the quiet whisper of the plant within. 

He coaxed the flower out, encouraging the whisper as it grew louder and more melodic. He opened his hand as the stem wrapped around his wrist and grew longer, budding at the end into a beautiful purple bloom. 

Stiles smiled as the flower stopped growing, about to open his mouth when Derek suddenly shifted back to human form. Stiles froze, somehow not expecting to see so much of Derek so soon. Derek walked right into Stiles’s space, completely disregarding his nudity, and grabbed his hand, studying the flower with awe.

“That’s amazing. You can do that with any plant?” he asked.

Stiles nodded. His tongue was tied and his face was red and if Derek didn’t back up soon he was probably going to explode. 

Derek hummed, following the flower to where the stem wrapped around him with his fingers. His hand trailed up to follow the path of the rose stem on his arm and Stiles shivered at the feel of it. 

Shaking his head, Derek took a step back.

“Can you help me get this deer back?” Derek asked slowly, like he wasn’t sure if he was going to offend Stiles with the question.

Stiles rolled his eyes and passed Derek, hopping across the creek. He knelt beside the deer and used the knife—that he was so grateful to finally have—to slice a line down the doe’s stomach. He rolled up his sleeves and scooped out the organs, being careful not to rupture any. 

He figured by the shocked little noises Derek was making that he finally realized that Stiles wasn’t a damn flower. 

 

“I can’t believe you know how to skin a deer,” Erica said, biting into a chunk of barely cooked venison. 

Derek sat silently next to Stiles, pushed right up against his side. Lydia sat on his other side, silently eating her food. 

“I grew up in the middle of a forest. Of course I know how to skin a deer,” Stiles scoffed, munching happily on the fresh meat. 

“Isaac told me you talk to trees,” Erica started.

Isaac smacked her arm, knocking her on her side and she threw the rest of her meat at his head.

“Well, yeah,” Stiles said without missing a beat.

Isaac froze with his stick in the air over Erica and looked at Stiles like he was crazy. Derek snorted and Lydia was staring at him like he was an idiot.

“What? Is that weird?” he asked, confused. 

“You’re seriously asking if talking to trees is weird?” Erica asked and Isaac smacked her with his stick. 

Stiles thought about it for a moment. The only other person who had his abilities in his tribe was his mother. Now it was only him. He hadn’t ever been beyond the Forest before being abducted. He’d always just assumed that every tribe had the chosen among them. 

“It’s awesome is what it is. I don’t know how you all exist without really being aware of the world around you. How do you know there’s danger coming if you can’t hear the warnings in the trees?” Stiles asked shrugging. 

“I think you and I need to have a long conversation about the gifts of the chosen when we get back, Stiles,” Lydia said.

Stiles smiled at her and jumped when he felt a hand running up his arm. Derek had a weird fascination with his vines, he was realizing. 

“So, how long has Scott been ‘friends’ with the girl with brown eyes?” Stiles asked, remembering what he saw when he touched Isaac’s hand earlier. 

“How did you know about that, they didn’t meet until six months ago?” Lydia asked, perplexed. 

Stiles blushed, slightly embarrassed to be called out.

“I kind of…saw them when I shook Isaac’s hand? Sorry…” he said, looking worriedly over at Isaac. 

He knew he should have just refused to touch him. Isaac’s eyes widened but he was still smiling.

“Wow, just from that?” he asked excitedly. 

Stiles nodded and refrained from telling him what else he saw.

“Like Lydia said, it’s been about six months that they’ve been dancing around each other. Allison is the heir to the Argent throne and she just came back one day with Scott in tow. No one knew much about the people who lived in the forest, so the King invited Scott to be an ambassador of sorts. He talked about you a lot, and the king finally decided he was fed up enough with his father to risk sending a rescue team,” Erica said.

“And here we are!” Isaac said enthusiastically. 

Stiles smiled and put his hand on Derek’s to stop his exploration. Derek huffed and wrapped his arm around Stiles, squeezing him tightly until he pulled away laughing. 

“I’m going to sleep, I’ll see you all tomorrow,” Stiles said, walking towards his sleeping bag. 

 

Stiles was nowhere to be seen. As soon as they stopped to make camp, Stiles had run off into the tree line without even spending time with the horses like he usually did. Assuming he probably just really needed to pee or something, Derek went off with Erica to collect firewood.

About an hour later the sun was hovering just above the horizon and Derek returned to find Stiles still missing. Erica offered to look with him. She seemed worried, but Derek brushed her off, telling her to relax and eat something while he went off to find their missing prince. 

He wandered aimlessly for a few minutes until he caught a trace of Stiles’s scent. He followed the trail for almost two miles. He heard the small waterfall long before it came to view, and he froze when it finally did. 

Stiles sat at the edge of the small pool of water at the base of the waterfall, surrounded by animals. Deer grazed nearby and laid pressed up against the boy’s side. Squirrels and chipmunks darted around the clearing, climbing up his body as they played. Birds swooped low, a few perched on his head and shoulders as he sat completely still.

Derek walked closer and the animals started to back away, seemingly spooked by his presence. That seemed to grab Stiles’s attention and he turned around curiously. 

“Oh, hey Derek,” he said, facing forward again. 

Derek hesitated to shatter the calm that seemed to hang over the clearing, but he was already here so he just moved as quietly as he could and sat down beside Stiles. The animals scattered off into the woods and the forest suddenly seemed much quieter than it had a moment ago. 

He sat there for a while, watching the fish swim in the pool. Stiles’s eyes were closed. Derek usually did very well in silence. Hell, he was usually the cause of silence, but for some reason, he was just feeling antsy watching Stiles, wondering what he was thinking. 

“It’s pretty out here,” he said when he couldn’t take it anymore. 

Stiles opened his eyes and looked at Derek, an easy smile on his face.

“It is, isn’t it? I heard the water before we even stopped and I just had to come check it out,” he said, leaning in like he was telling a secret, “The trees sing love songs here. Can you hear it?”

Derek listened but heard nothing but the wind in the trees and the occasional snap of a branch. 

“I don’t hear anything,” he said, shaking his head. 

Stiles frowned and looked at the pool thoughtfully. 

“Can I show you?” he asked. 

Derek raised his eyebrows but nodded. Stiles rose up onto his knees and scooted closer, looking at him with excitement in his eyes. Derek was about to ask him what he was going to do when Stiles leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. 

Derek was too shocked to move at first, and then he started to hear a buzzing sound that slowly morphed into slow, beautiful music. His lips went slack against Stiles’s but he was too focused on the sound to really care. There were no words, but somehow he understood the meaning behind every note. They really were singing love songs. 

Stiles pulled away and the sound abruptly ended, shocking Derek back into the present. He blinked owlishly then looked thoughtfully at Stiles. 

“Isn’t it beautiful? I was going to come right back but I got so caught up in it,” Stiles said, looking past Derek and smiling. 

Derek watched Stiles smile distantly. He stared at those lips that he could still feel ghost-like against his own. Without even thinking about it he twisted until he was fully facing Stiles, cupped his face and pressed their lips together in a firm kiss. 

Stiles flailed for a second before relaxing against his hold and returning the kiss. Derek felt a thrill run up his spine and he deepened the kiss, licking and biting at Stiles’s lower lip until he opened his mouth for Derek to explore. It was all consuming, and Derek barely even realized how long they stayed pressed together, exploring with hands and teeth and tongue. 

When Derek finally pulled back to look at Stiles, he was shocked to find that the sun had long since set. Stiles blinked around him like he was just as shocked. Their eyes met and they burst out laughing, partly from humor and partly from nerves. 

“Um, I think we should probably go back,” Stiles said, standing up and brushing the dirt off his pants before reaching a hand down for Derek. 

Derek took it and didn’t let go once he was standing, entwining their fingers together as he led them back the way he had come. 

“Assuming they haven’t eaten it all yet, there should be dinner waiting,” Derek said.   
Stiles stared at their joined hands but didn’t say anything or pull away. 

They walked in silence for about a mile, Stiles full of tension the entire time, until he finally snapped. 

“Ok, wait, wait. Are you sure this is ok?” Stiles asked, lifting their hands. 

Derek raised an eyebrow. Was he reading the boy wrong? Maybe he really didn’t like Derek at all?

“No, no, it’s not that,” Stiles said quickly, “It’s just…I can’t turn off the mind reading when there’s skin on skin contact?” 

Oh, he had honestly forgotten about that. 

“It’s fine. Does it bother you?” Derek asked.

Stiles shook his head. 

“No, I’m used to it. I just don’t want to invade your privacy, or…whatever,” he said, blushing slightly. 

Derek smirked. Whatever, huh? ‘Whatever’ was probably pretty kinky if the growing blush was any indication. He wondered exactly how far down that blush went. Derek could think of a few ways to find out…

“Ok, ok, that’s enough!” Stiles said, his voice cracking, “Goddess, Derek, I’m not trying to walk into camp with a boner. Think about your family…ok shit, not that sorry.”

Derek smiled at Stiles who was staring ahead with a look on his face like he just kicked a puppy. Derek always felt a twinge of pain when someone mentioned his family, but it wasn’t a pervasive sadness like it used to be. 

“Stiles, relax, it’s fine. I still have two sisters and my whole pack. We’re not traditional but they’re all family to me,” he said. 

Stiles smiled sadly over at Derek. 

“That sounds so wonderful. I’m really sorry though. I hate that I can’t control what I see though. My mother tried to teach me before she died but…” Stiles trailed off and shrugged his shoulders.

“Maybe this is a bad idea,” he continued, dropping his hand and putting some distance between the two of them.

Derek frowned down at his hand for a long moment before reaching out and grabbing Stiles’s hand in both of his, halting them where they stood. They were probably in ear shot of the others now, but Derek didn’t care. This just felt really important for some reason.

“Stiles, normally I hold people away with a ten-foot pole. I’ve always been afraid of letting people in, of getting hurt, but this…this feels different. Maybe I’m being an idiot right now, but I’m not afraid to let you in. You’re so…different. And maybe it’s like how you can hear the trees singing love songs, and you just know things about people from a touch. I just _know_ that I can trust you. It’s like… oh shit,” Derek froze, tension running up his body.

Stiles looked at him curiously before his eyes widened and he leaned closer, as if he also realized that the others could hear them. 

“ _Mate?_ Is that… I mean I’m not…um,” he whispered, overwhelmed. 

Derek shook his head in shock, both because Stiles was his mate and because it had taken him so long to realize it. 

“Why don’t we have a conversation tomorrow while we ride,” Derek asked.

Stiles searched his eyes and relaxed a little bit. He nodded and smiled at Derek, kissing his hand before pulling him back towards to camp. 

No one said anything when they got back, but Isaac and Erica kept sharing looks and giggling like children until Lydia threw her shoe at them. 

Stiles told stories and legends that his mother told him and Derek was thrilled to just be able to hear his voice and feel his heat against his side. He thought his night was perfect when he curled into his sleeping bag for the night. Then he woke up in the middle of the night to Stiles wiggling his way into his makeshift bed and he realized what perfection really was.


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles woke up long before dawn. At first, he couldn’t figure out what had disturbed his sleep, but after a few moments he heard it again. Someone was crying and the sound was echoing through the trees, disturbing the peace of the forest. 

Stiles carefully slid out from underneath Derek’s arm and tiptoed around his sleeping companions. He followed the sound back to the small waterfall he had found earlier that day. When he broke the tree line he paused. A dark haired woman wearing an ethereal white dress laid curled in on herself, sobbing.

She didn’t stop or lift her head when Stiles approached and sat down beside her. He reached out cautiously to touch her shoulder but froze when his wrist was suddenly caught by a clawed hand. The woman looked up at him, her eyes blazing red and her expression filled with rage. 

_What do you want?_

Stiles blinked in confusion when he realized that he could see the vine on his wrist through the woman’s closed hand. He looked closer and saw the leaves through her hair and dress as well. So she was nothing more than an echo of the past.

_Who are you?_

Her voice was laced with hate and mistrust and tears still fell freely down her cheeks. 

“My name is Stiles. I heard you crying and I came to see if you were alright,” he said simply. 

Stiles had learned that dealing with spiritual remnants became dangerous when one gave too much information away. It was best to say little and listen carefully. 

The spirit frowned deeply at him but her expression fell back into sorrow and she bent over his trapped wrist and began to sob loudly. 

_He left me. He promised that we would leave together and he left me for someone else!_

Stiles placed his free hand on the woman’s shoulder and rubbed her skin comfortingly.

_He said he loved me. I wasn’t going to tell him what I was but he found out and he said he still loved me. But he left me here for someone else and they killed me! They tore me apart and left me for the animals! Oh God, my children! What did they do with my children!?_

Images swirled behind Stiles’s eyelids until he could see the scene playing out in his head. The woman had promised to meet her lover at their usual meeting spot. She was visiting a family friend with her brother and three children when they met and he promised to leave with them in the morning. He never came. A crowd of men with knives and bows all laced with wolfsbane found her and beat her to death. Her body was cut into pieces and scattered.

_I can’t find my children! What did they do to them? How could he do this to me?!_

The woman wailed and her claws dipped painfully into Stiles’s wrist, drawing blood. Stiles grunted and tried to pull away but the woman had dug her other hand into his upper arm to hold him still. 

_TELL ME WHERE MY CHILDREN ARE! I HEARD THEM! I HEARD THEM WITH YOU!_

The woman screamed into his face and Stiles gasped as she drew her claws down his arm, leaving deep, bleeding gashes in their wake. 

_WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!_

“What happened? Your arm!”

Stiles looked back in shock. Derek was standing a few feet away from him with his hands up, looking like he wanted to touch him but was unsure of whether Stiles would let him. Stiles blinked the tears out of his eyes and looked back down to see that the woman was gone. The only trace of her were the deep wounds running down his arm. 

“Um, I don’t know,” Stiles said, his voice shaking. 

Derek closed the distance between them and lifted Stiles’s torn arm. He hissed at the pain but tried to keep still as Derek inspected it. The werewolf shook his head and pulled his shirt over his head, tearing it into strips and wrapping them tightly around Stiles’s arm. 

“It’s not too bad; we just have to stop the bleeding. You don’t know what did this?” he asked, looking carefully at Stiles.   
Stiles looked back at Derek and all he could see was that woman in his eyes. 

“It was an accident. Don’t worry about it. I thought you were asleep when I left?” he said, turning away and walking back toward the camp with his arm cradled to his chest.

Derek followed just behind him. 

“I was. I woke up and you were gone and I followed your scent out here. Stiles…”

Derek grabbed Stiles’s good arm and tugged him gently to a halt. Stiles looked down at his feet when Derek circled around to face him. He kept his eyes focused on Derek’s lips when he lifted his chin up. 

“Stiles, you look really shaken, I mean, you’re not even looking me in the eyes,” Derek said and Stiles lifted his eyes to prove him wrong. 

“What happened,” Derek enunciated, regardless. 

Stiles let out a huge breath and pulled Derek’s hand away from his jaw. 

“Derek, it’s fine. Leave it,” he said firmly, pleading with his eyes that he just drop it. 

Derek searched his face for something before shaking his head and leading Stiles back to the campsite, mumbling under his breath. If anyone was awake when they got back, they graciously pretended to sleep. Stiles curled back into the sleeping bag with Derek, holding his damaged arm carefully on top of his body. He could feel the tense line of Derek’s back and he cursed himself for investigating the sound in the first place. 

Stiles had learned how to recognize spirits from his mother. He had learned to read the signs of the earth where they roamed and he knew that this spirit was not tied to that place. Someone had brought it there, and Stiles only knew one werewolf who had explored that place today.  
\----------------------------------------------

The next morning, the rest of the pack bombarded Stiles and Derek with questions. The wounds on Stiles’s arm weren’t as deep as they initially looked, but Derek couldn’t understand why Stiles refused to tell him what scratched him. 

He acted strangely the next few days, never quite meeting Derek’s eyes, yet giving him these long, assessing looks when he thought that Derek wasn’t paying attention. Derek had tried to say something to him about it a few times, but each time he would just lean in and draw Derek into a deep kiss or distract him with a small offering of personal information. 

“My mom met my dad when she ran away from her tribe and ended up getting her leg stuck between two rocks in a stream just outside my dad’s village. He thought she was a trapped forest spirit at first but that illusion shattered pretty quickly when she started hitting him with a stick,” Stiles said, the eighth time Derek tried to bring the other night up. 

Derek tried to picture what Stiles would do in that situation and laughed at how similar he and his mother seemed to be.   
“My father died when I was very young so I don’t remember him, however; my mom did have a romantic love affair for years when I was growing up. We visited my mom’s friend every summer and she always disappeared into the woods for hours, coming back with a huge smile on her face. Me and Laura made a game out of trying to figure out who she was meeting up with,” he said, smiling. 

Stiles was looking at him intensely but Derek didn’t want to tell any more of the story. It hurt too much. He frowned and waved towards the horses instead. 

“We should get to the castle by sunset today. Isaac went ahead to let them know we’re coming, so hopefully Scott will be there to meet you,” he said. 

Stiles’s eyes lit up and he practically jumped up to his feet. 

“Let’s go then, what are we waiting for?” he asked, running to his horse and throwing himself onto her back.

Derek shook his head, smiling at his enthusiasm. He called for Erica and Lydia to get ready to leave before mounting his own horse and following Stiles at a trot. He belatedly remembered that he was planning on getting Stiles to talk to him about that night in the woods before they made it back and vowed to get answers out of him if he had to pin him down to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? Ghosts? Oh my. 
> 
> I am so loving all the Steter moments in the last teen wolf episode! Oh my god! And Nogitsune!Stiles will forever be the best Stiles ever.


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles leaped off his horse and tackled the boy running towards him to the ground. 

“Stiles! Holy shit!” Scott coughed as he wrapped his arms and legs around his best friend and smiled into his hair, breathing the familiar smell in deeply. 

Stiles giggled and kissed each of Scott’s eyes. Pulling back, he saw the trace of worry beneath Scott’s joy so he gathered together the important bits of his time away and his rescue and he pressed a kiss to his friend’s lips. 

Scott was too used to this form of communication to even react to it. Stiles skimmed over the painful memories and focused on his relief to be back in one piece and his surprising attachment to his rescuer. 

When Stiles pulled away, Scott sat up looking thoughtful. 

“You realize that the Chief is literally never going to let you out of his sight again now, right?” he said, smiling slightly. 

Stiles shrugged and stood up, offering a hand to Scott and drawing him in for another firm hug when they were both standing. 

“It’s not that easy to pin me down, Scotty,” he said, winking as he turned to face his party of rescuers. 

Erica had a pinched look on her face and Lydia and Allison both looked at him warily. Derek looked completely closed off, his face giving nothing away, but Stiles suspected he had somehow offended him. Maybe he shouldn’t have run ahead of them? 

“Um, sorry. I just sensed Scott and got really excited…” he said, looking back at Scott for support.

A low growl sounded and Stiles whipped his head back around and stared curiously at Derek. 

“Scott, let’s go inside and let the Princess and the King know of our success,” Lydia said, brushing past Stiles and grabbing onto Scott’s arm as she dragged him away. 

“Wait, but, Stiles,” he said, slightly bewildered.

“He’s coming kiddo, he’s just gonna help Derek out with the horses really quickly,” Erica said cheerfully, coming up on his other side. 

Stiles watched the two girls dragged his friend away. Allison patted him lightly on the shoulder as she passed him as well to follow the others. 

_Fondness, so dense, it’s sickeningly sweet._

He let the thoughts wash over him then looked back to where Derek was staring grumpily down at the dirt. Had he done something very bad?

“Derek? What’s wrong?” he asked hesitantly, not wanting to offend him but completely at a loss as to what had just happened.

Derek’s head lifted swiftly and he narrowed his eyes and growled again before he was suddenly right in Stiles’s space. Stiles took an unconscious step back and Derek’s hand went around his waist and dragged him close, pinning him against his body. Stiles squirmed but couldn’t get anywhere so he just relaxed into the hold and looked up into Derek’s intense stare, feeling the beginnings of annoyance fluttering in his belly. 

“Derek, what?” he snapped before he registered the impressions flooding his system. 

_Envy, betrayal, how could this happen again, loss, always loss, mate, mine, should have known, resentment, mine, mine, mine_

Stiles’s head spun with the powerful emotions that Derek was projecting. He almost missed the words filling his ears.

“…just say something? How could you just let me make a fool of myself like that? I trusted you; was everything just a big joke to you? Do you just whore yourself out to anyone who…”

Stiles halted the tirade by grabbing Derek’s face and kissing him hard. He sent calming energy into Derek until his hold became a loose embrace and he was kissing back with tongue and teeth. After the last of the tension left Derek’s shoulders, Stiles pulled back and stared at his pouting face. He looked like a kicked puppy. 

“Derek, Scott is my brother. Remember when I showed you the singing trees? I can share my memories and thoughts through a kiss. That’s what I was doing with Scott and he’s used to it because I always tried to show him the things I saw and heard when we were growing up. And I don’t _whore_ myself out to anyone. I couldn’t if I wanted to because it’s overwhelming for me to maintain contact with most people. You’re just special. Like Scott, but in a different way,” Stiles said calmly. 

Derek’s pout turned to surprise and pink flooded his cheeks. 

“So kissing? Has anyone ever…” he said awkwardly.

Stiles shrugged and smiled brightly at him.

“You were the first,” he said cheerfully.

Stiles squeaked in surprise as he was suddenly lifted completely off the ground. He wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist for stability as Derek captured his lips and kissed him like a man starved. Stiles was hazily aware that they were in full view of the castle should anyone decide to just look out one of the windows, but he was too distracted by the heat and the possessiveness radiating off of Derek to really care. 

Stiles was the first to pull away, gasping for air. Unperturbed, Derek kissed down his jaw and neck, biting down gently before rutting his hips against Stiles. Stiles almost choked on air as seemingly all of his blood rushed south. 

“Derek, wait,” he croaked out, pushing at Derek’s shoulders.

Derek let him down but kept their hips firmly planted together, one hand playing with the band of his trousers. 

“Derek, stop,” he said, more firmly and Derek paused before backing off completely.

Stiles almost regretted saying it because his whole body protested the lost heat, but he had things to do right now and he would be damned if he lost his virginity on a dirt road right in front of a castle full of strangers. 

“Let’s just…put that on hold for now. I mean, I’m down, I’m totally down, but I’m supposed to be meeting this King so I can find out what he wants from me and then I need to go tell my father that I’m alive so that he can kill me himself for leaving the forest by myself,” he said.

Derek closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. When he opened them, he was smiling. 

“Shall we?” he asked, holding his arm out for Stiles to take. 

Stiles laughed and hooked his arm with Derek’s. 

Scott was waiting for them just inside the main gate. He looked between the two of them with concern which quickly changed into smug satisfaction. He winked at Stiles who almost regretted sharing the part about Derek. Derek glared fiercely at Scott and Stiles figured that this was just a relationship that would take time and a lot of interference on Stiles’s part to develop. 

\----------------------

Stiles had expected to be led right into the main hall, but instead was lead to a room just as large and lavish as his prison had been. When he stepped inside Derek moved to leave and Stiles grabbed his arm in a panic. 

“Derek, wait! Don’t leave me in here by myself,” he said desperately.

Derek searched his expression and frowned before looking around the room. Stiles saw the moment it clicked in Derek’s mind and he stepped into the room, pressing a light kiss to Stiles’s brow and shutting the door behind them.

“There should be clothing for you in here. Why don’t we get cleaned up and get some rest? They shouldn’t be summoning us until dinner,” he said.   
Relief crashed through Stiles’s system as he turned to better examine the room. The bed was big enough for four people and there was a plate of fruits and cheeses resting on a small table between two couches. The bathroom was connected off to the side of the room and that’s where Stiles headed, shedding his clothing shamelessly behind him. 

The bath was large and built into the floor. The water was room temperature but Stiles was thrilled to be able to take a cool bath. He was always used to the cold spring waters before his abduction anyway. He ducked his head underwater and ran his fingers through his hair when he heard the tell-tale splash of Derek finally joining him. 

Stiles lifted his head back up, shaking the water out of his hair wildly before grinning at Derek. 

“Can I wash your hair?” Stiles asked.

Derek tossed him a brown bar of soap and relaxed against the tiled wall. Stiles almost wooped, so excited that he could use the natural soap he was used to instead of the smelly oils they had in Gerard’s palace. 

He swam up to Derek until their bodies were pressed tightly together. Derek didn’t move to turn around so Stiles just ran the soap through his hair while Derek stared intently at his neck and chest. Stiles moved down to cover Derek’s neck and chest with soap. He dropped the soap on the side of the pool and Derek ducked under the water to clean the suds off.

Before he could even wipe the water out of his eyes after standing up, Stiles was reaching under the water and grabbing Derek’s half hard member, pumping it the way he liked to do himself. Derek groaned like he’d been punched then grabbed Stiles by his hair and dragged him into a filthy kiss. 

Stiles’s hands drifted up Derek’s sides and he shivered when Derek’s exploring hands made the vines rub against his chest, every so often catching his nipple and making him gasp into the kiss. Everything narrowed down to Derek, and where he was touching. Stiles felt desperate and helpless and so hot despite the cool water. He whined against Derek’s lips, trying to convey his desperation but at a loss for what it was he needed. 

One of Derek’s hands snaked between their bodies and wrapped around both of their pricks under the water, stroking hard and firm. Stiles’s lips went slack at the sensation, feeling both his own pleasure and Derek’s more primal pleasure flooding his senses. Derek nipped down his neck, pausing to suck dark bruises into his skin between the vines. 

Stiles huffed out little sounds that seemed to egg Derek on to move even faster and bite even harder. Derek started growling lowly and that for some reason is what pushed Stiles over the edge. He came so hard that his vision went white for a moment and he missed Derek’s release.   
He couldn’t make himself feel disappointed however, when he was cuddling up against Derek’s chest and Derek was smiling down at him sleepily. He smiled goofily back but froze when he noticed red in the water. 

Stiles pulled back and the warmth coiled in his stomach went ice cold. He had somehow forgotten that the thorns didn’t hurt him, but could hurt someone else. Derek had small puncture wounds and tears all up and down his chest, each cut oozed thick droplets of blood into the bath. Stiles reached out to try to do something but froze again, unsure of how to even fix this. 

Derek took his hands and his attention snapped back up to his eyes, afraid of the hate he expected to see there. 

“Stiles, it’s fine. It’s healing, see?” he said.

Sure enough the cuts really were closing even as he watched them. Still, Stiles couldn’t understand why Derek hadn’t said something. He could’ve…

“Why did you let me do that?” he asked, distressed. 

“This is important to you,” Derek said, fingering the vines wrapped around his body, “I can handle a few scrapes when we’re together if it means you’re not losing this.”

Stiles felt tears prick at his eyes and he looked up at the ceiling to try to keep them from falling. 

“Wow, uh, that’s…that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” he said shakily, thinking of his mother and how much she would have loved Derek if she were still alive. 

Derek hugged Stiles tightly, disregarding the thorns against his skin entirely.

“That’s just how much I love you,” he whispered.

Stiles did start crying then. He had never been happier.


	5. Chapter 5

Dinner came sooner than Stiles really felt ready for, but he tried to remind himself that the sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could go home and see his dad. 

The clothing left for him was, surprisingly, his own clothing from the village. The light, but insulating material felt like a second skin to him compared to the tight leathers he donned for the journey back home. The decorations were not so ornate as the robes he was given in his prison, but reflected the inspired eye of the individual who had hand-crafted each detail so lovingly.

It was with more self-confidence than he had felt for a year that Stiles entered the large hall and sat beside Scott at the table sitting on a dais in the center of the room. When he realized that Derek had not followed him he stood up but Scott caught his arm before he could move to find him. 

“Stiles, sit. You can go talk to him later, he’s just going to be at another table,” Scott whispered.

Stiles hesitated but sank back down onto the plush pillow and waited for the rest of the table to fill in with people. The girl, Allison, winked at Scott as she sat a few seats over on the opposite side, right next to the head of the table. Stiles opened his mouth to introduce himself to her when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“Dear boy, your seat is over here, reserved for the guest of honor!” a man said lightly as Scott stiffened beside him. 

_Power, beauty, useful, Laura, dammit_

“Uncle Peter, Derek is looking for you,” a woman said with ice in her voice. 

The hand lifted from his shoulder and Stiles turned to look up at the two people…werewolves towering over him. The first one, Peter grinned tightly at the second, Laura before nodding and mumbling something indecipherable to her as he passed. Laura scowled at the floor for a few awkward moments before lifting her head and smiling brightly at him and Scott.

“I apologize for the interruption, but my uncle is correct. Stiles, your seat is next to mine,” she said, holding out her hand.  
Stiles hesitated, again uncertain of whether she realized what he could do, but finally accepted her hand as she guided him to the seat directly across from Allison. 

_He’s up to something, he’s been up to something, can’t trust him, gods this child looks innocent_

Stiles snorted as he sat down and Laura looked at him curiously.

“I think your mistrust is wise. You should know, though, looks can be deceiving. I see and hear far too much to be innocent,” he said giggling a little. 

Laura’s eyes went wide and she gaped open mouthed at him before her lips curled into a smile. 

“I suppose the rumors are true then, seer,” she said, sounding impressed. 

“Seer Stiles, my name is Allison Argent, Princess of the Grasslands and I would be honored to make your acquaintance,” Allison suddenly interjected, offering her hand across the table. 

Too curious to even hesitate, Stiles took her hand between his own and squeezed the way his mother used to do for him. 

_Curious, I’ve heard so much, Scott loves him, I will too, Scott was right, his eyes are piercing._

Stiles grinned toothily and released Allison’s hand. She pulled it back slowly, looking intently at Stiles’s face. 

“Scott always says my eyes are like arrows. Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” he said and Allison laughed in surprise.

“And we don’t use titles in my tribe. Just call me Stiles and I will call you Allison, ok?” he added, hoping that Allison would not be the asshole that her grandfather is. 

Allison tilted her head and smiled. 

“I think I would like that, Stiles,” she said simply.

“My name is Laura Hale, I’m Derek’s older sister and the Hale pack ambassador,” she said. 

“And the Alpha,” Stiles added to which she grinned and her eyes flashed red. 

“Laura, how’s the newly turned girl you were telling me about?” Allison asked.

Stiles didn’t hear the answer over the sound of echoing sobs. As he focused on them, the buzz of conversation dissipated and then silenced. He searched through the flurries of movement until his eyes landing on the slumped shoulders of a familiar figure. 

She sat a few feet behind Laura, her legs hanging off the edge of the dais. Her clothes were exactly the same as they had been that night in the woods, but this time they were soaked in blood. 

_How could he betray me? I waited and he never came. He never came._

Stiles turned slightly to face the woman and her head snapped out of her hands as if she had heard him move. Her attention zeroed in on him and she stared at him through her disheveled hair. 

_You were there. I saw you. Where are my children? Why didn’t he come?_

She choked out a few more sobs, seeming to lose the ability to speak. Stiles didn’t answer. After a few minutes her body straightened up once more and she grabbed her hair in distress.

_HE’S HERE! HE’S HERE! HE KILLED ME! HE KILLED MY LOVE! HE WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE HIM MEET ME HERE AND HE NEVER CAME! HE NEVER CAME! WHERE ARE MY CHILDREN!_

The woman stood and screamed her agony to the ceiling. Stiles was too terrified to of drawing her attention to even move but she ended up looking back at him anyway. She fell to her knees in front of him and grabbed the back of his neck and his wrist, looking desperately into his eyes.

_Where are my children? You know, you know, you KNOWYOUKNOWYOUKNOWYOUKNOW!_

Stiles felt claws digging into his skin and he gasped as she screamed in his face. He shut his eyes tightly and willed the vision away with everything he had and suddenly the screams became cries of his name.

“Stiles, Stiles!”

Stiles grabbed Laura’s shoulder as she shook him and squeezed, unable to communicate that he was ok in any other way at the moment.  
“Oh thank god, what happened?” Laura asked sounding a little bit frightened. 

Stiles peeked his eyes open to find a multitude of eyes on him, ranging from worried to curious to humorous. He groaned a little bit when he realized that there was blood running down his hand and back. 

“Stiles, what happened?” Allison asked, sounding worried. 

Stiles brushed Laura’s hand off, mitigating the action with a small smile in her direction. He faced Allison and tried to look unperturbed.  
“It’s nothing, just a vision. I’m fine,” he said. 

Allison looked pointedly at the blood oozing out of his wrist but didn’t say anything, instead handing over a large napkin which he gratefully accepted and pressed against the open wound. 

“Are your visions always so violent?” a man asked as he sat down at the vacant seat at the head of the table. He must be the king. 

“No, not really,” Stiles said tensely, still fighting his instinct to remain completely silent around royalty. 

When he didn’t say anything else the king raised his glass which must have been a signal because the servants suddenly flooded the tables with rich foods and drink. 

“So Stiles, I fear I must apologize for the travesty that my father has committed against you,” the king began, looking genuinely upset. 

Stiles looked up from the bread he was about to ungracefully shove into his face. 

“Well to be fair, it was your sister who physically kidnapped me so…” he said, still not feeling overly fond of any Argent that his best friend didn’t want to bone.

The king winced and ran his hand over his face.

“I like to tell myself that I was adopted,” he said with a rueful smile.

“So what does…your kingliness….want from me?” Stiles asked bluntly.

Laura choked on the chicken she was eating and Allison almost spit out her drink when she started laughing. The king too had taken his words more lightly than he intended them and was assessing him with a small smile. 

“Your friend has you pegged pretty well, I must say. And for the record, I am aware of your customs and your stubbornness in particular if Scott’s to be believed, so you can simply call me Chris if you’d like.”

A general hush washed across the table and those nearest where people were not-so-subtly eavesdropping. Stiles was too surprised to come up with a witty retort and just looked helplessly over at Scott a few seats down. Scott had his face buried in his hands and his shoulders were shaking. Maybe he was…nope. No, that little shit was laughing right now. 

“I think you didn’t answer my question, _Chris_ ,” Stiles said sharply.

The king’s face grew solemn and he looked carefully at Stiles. 

“So I haven’t. Were I to say that I didn’t want anything from you, I’m afraid that I would be lying. I will not, however, ask anything of you right now. Nor will I ever try to force a favor from you that you do not want to give freely. I am not my father, and your people are our allies now,” he said. 

Stiles looked at him suspiciously. He wasn’t lying, but Stiles still did not trust his intentions. If he could leave this place and never return, he would be all the better off for it. 

“I can go home tonight then?” he asked.

Chris looked thoughtfully at his daughter and then over at Scott before looking back at Stiles. 

“Of course, though I wouldn’t feel comfortable sending you into the woods by yourself so late at night,” he said. 

Stiles and Scott immediately burst into cackling laughter. Stiles felt tears in his eyes and even though he knew that he was probably being really rude and his dad would smack him for this later he just couldn’t stop. Scott reached across Laura and the other young man between them and grabbed Stiles’s hand.

_Funny, Stiles in the meadow playing with a mountain lion. Dude just spend the night with Derek here. I’m going back in the morning anyway so we can go together._

Stiles nodded his head and released Scott’s hand, wiping his eyes as a few more laughs escaped his lips. When he finally had himself under control he looked up at Chris sheepishly. 

“Um, sorry. That was so rude. I appreciate your concern but predators aren’t really a danger to me and the trees warn me before any other dangers arise. I do think that I’ll wait until tomorrow though, so that I can go back with Scott,” he said. 

Chris looked more intrigued then annoyed for which Stiles was infinitely glad. 

“Very well. And Stiles, know that you and your father are welcomed here anytime,” he replied. 

Stiles spent the rest of the evening wolfing down his dinner and spying on Derek. The man was sitting at a table full of what Stiles assumed was his pack. When Laura noticed his distraction, she nudged him and named everyone for him before launching into a few choice embarrassing stories from Derek’s childhood.

“…and then when he finally did manage to find some bread, the ducks immediately attacked him and he was so scared that he fell right into the pond!” Laura said, laughing, “Mom was so pissed too because he was supposed to wear those clothes to the pack meeting that night.”  
Stiles laughed along with Laura before catching the last bit of what she said. 

“What was she like?” he asked, trying not to sound creepy from the intensity of his interest. 

Laura’s smile faltered and grew forced. 

“My mother? Why do you want to know?” she asked.

“Oh, well Derek’s mentioned her a few times so I was just wondering…” Stiles lied. 

Laura looked surprised then suspicious before just rolling her eyes and smiling. 

“She was a great Alpha. Caring, loving, and fierce when she needed to be,” she said. 

Stiles thought of the miserable woman and tried to fit her with those qualities. 

“She was the Alpha of the Hale pack? So you must have inherited that, right?” he asked.

Laura looked sadly down at her hands. 

“Yes. I always wanted to be Alpha, but never that way. I was so young though when she died, only sixteen and not at all ready to lead a pack as powerful as the Hales. My Uncle Peter took care of us until I was old enough,” she said. 

Her eyes flashed red and the last few words came out sour on her tongue. Stiles remembered the distrust he had felt in Laura for her uncle and while he didn’t blame her—that man oozed creepiness—he wondered why she felt that way about family.

“He was the man from earlier, right?” Stiles clarified.

Laura looked up and growled lowly, her eyes red.

“Stiles, do not trust my uncle. He is not safe; he is not sane. He tried to…” she swallowed hard and shook her head, “anyway, just stick close to Derek until you get back home, ok?” 

Stiles was curious but he didn’t want to push so he didn’t ask what happened. Instead he nodded and excused himself from the table. Allison had tried to get him to stay for dessert, but he was exhausted and ready for the morning to come. 

Stiles glanced towards Derek’s table and thought about asking him to leave. In the end, though, Derek seemed to be really happy and Stiles didn’t want to spoil that so he went back to his room alone. 

\-------------------------------------------

He tried going to sleep but the room made him too nervous without Derek there with him. Giving up, he explored the whole length of the room; eventually opening the doors that he thought led to a patio and instead led to a large, lush garden. 

Stiles felt a surge of excitement run through his bones as he followed a grassy path lined with roses and tulips and hyacinths and flora of all kinds. He paused and brushed his hand along each new plant he came across, listening to their song and encouraging them to open and grow.  
By the time Stiles made it to the small wooden bench shaded by a pergola in the back of the garden, the bushes that had been waist high now stood inches above his head. He turned around to head back the way he came when a hush came over the garden, followed by a rising chorus of warning. 

Stiles parted a thick hedge, hiding inside and closing the gap in front of him. He calmed his breathing as he heard footsteps approaching. Whoever was coming began to whistle a tune and even the vines twisted around his body became restless. That was usually a bad sign.  
The footsteps stopped right before passing Stiles’s hiding spot and he held his breath and waited with his heart in his throat. The footsteps continued and Stiles was about to let out a sigh of relief when a hand reached through the hedge and latched onto the front of his shirt, dragging him out and throwing him onto the ground. 

Stiles coughed as the air was knocked out of his lungs and he tried to sit up but was stopped by a shoe on his throat.  
“What a strange coincidence that I should find you out here, Stiles,” Peter Hale said laughingly.  
Stiles choked as Peter pressed down on his throat and he grit his teeth. He grabbed Peter’s ankle and let the vines grow past his arm and up the limb, constricting like a snake where it made contact with skin. Peter hissed and drew his leg back. The vines receded and Stiles coughed and gasped for air. 

Not bothering to turn around, Stiles tried to make a run for it back to the room but he barely made it ten feet before Peter’s weight slammed into his back and he was tackled to the ground. He struggled, screaming in frustration as the man effortlessly held him down.  
“Let go of me you psycho!” he shouted. 

Stiles reached out for help and the branches of the hedges warped and began to lash out at Peter, but then he felt a prick on his neck and everything went dark.  
\---------------------------------------  
 _Danger, danger, turn around, get away, get away, get away!_

Stiles opened his eyes slowly. His head was spinning and he couldn’t make sense of where he was. The floor lurched under him and he jerked up, immediately regretting it when his dinner tried to make an appearance. He held still through the wave of nausea, taking in his surroundings. 

He was in the back of a covered wagon, surrounded by stacks of crates. He couldn’t tell where he was headed but the litany of warnings coming from every direction was indication enough that he didn’t want to continue this journey. 

Stiles stood carefully, ducking to fit beneath the low cover and felt for his knife. He mentally sighed, not surprised to find it missing. He threw his leg over the lowest crate, intending to jump off the wagon and seek cover in the woods before anyone noticed, but the sudden halt of the wagon threw him off balance and he went tumbling back to the floor. 

That’s when he noticed her. The crying woman sat atop a stack of crates looking down at him intently. She was strangely silent as she reached her hand out, waiting. Stiles slowly offered his own hand and she grabbed it tightly, flooding him with images and sensations. 

_She waited, he never came, violence, his head rolling on the ground, who did this? They laugh they mention Peter. Peter? He has my children! Where are they? Will they be killed too? Get out! Don’t trust him don’t trust him don’t trust him! Please save my children._

Stiles snapped back to reality with a gasp. He blinked at the empty space that the woman had so recently occupied. He twisted around when he heard the wood creak and saw Peter right in front of him, sitting on the crate between him and the exit. 

“Well, look who’s awake,” he said, smiling like he didn’t just drug and kidnap someone.

The wagon lurched forward again as it began to move and Stiles reached out to keep himself steady. He jerked his hand back like it was on fire when he realized that he had grabbed Peter’s thigh. Stiles glared at the smug-looking bastard.

“What is this? What can you possibly get out of taking me…wherever the hell we’re going?” Stiles snapped. 

Peter raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? And here I thought you were supposed to know everything,” he said, smirking as Stiles just scowled up at him. 

“We happen to be heading back in the direction of the mountain pass. I’ll give you a choice: let me give you the mating bite and stay near your family and friends, or go back and take your chances with the elder King Argent,” he continued. 

“Leave me with the Argents you psycho,” Stiles said without hesitation. He was somewhat satisfied by the surprise that flitted across Peter’s expression. 

“Ah, how unfortunate. I was really only trying to make you feel like you had a choice but…” he said, crouching down and approaching Stiles where he backed himself into a corner. 

“Wha...wait! Even if you bind us together, I’m not going to help you with my visions! There’s no point!” he said quickly, holding his hands out in front of him to ward the werewolf off. 

Peter grabbed Stiles’s wrists and pinned them above his head with one hand. Stiles kicked out at him but Peter only caught his leg and pinned it down with his own. Unable to throw the werewolf off his body, Stiles desperately wished he could sink into the wood at his back. 

_Need power, desperation, should have killed Laura when I had the chance, I am the Alpha_

“No point? You’re indispensable to the kingdom and thus, the Hale pack. I, on the other hand, am barely hanging onto the fringes of usefulness. My niece doesn’t trust me anymore and she’s losing reasons to keep me around. Being mated to you, however, will secure my place in the pack until I have the opportunity to take back my rightful place as Alpha,” Peter said sweetly, dragging a clawed hand through the fabric of Stiles’s shirt. 

Stiles bucked again, trying desperately to direct his vines down Peter’s arms but somehow completely unable to connect with them. He was still feeling woozy from whatever Peter gave him and it was messing with ability in the worst possible way. His shirt fell open and he shivered as the cool breeze hit his bare chest.

“What’s this? How strange,” Peter said, running his fingers along the vines wrapped around his chest.

Before Stiles realized what was about to happen, Peter slashed through the vines and tore them from his chest. Stiles froze in shock, his mind stopped working as he felt the now-dead vines dropping in his lap. He didn’t even register the teeth brushing against his throat. 

Then he screamed.

His agony echoed in his head and he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. He curled into himself, clutching at the plant matter in his hands and crying and still unable to stop screaming. He didn’t know how much time passed when he was suddenly aware of a hand running soothingly through his hair. Everything stopped then, the agony, the swirling chaos. 

He was curled up in the corner of the wagon, but Peter was nowhere to be seen. He blinked the tears out of his eyes and looked up at Derek who sat next to him, murmuring quiet comfort. 

“…Derek? What happened? Peter was…” he asked.

Derek’s hand tightened in his hair for a second before relaxing. 

“Peter’s dead. We were looking for you and we heard you scream. When we got here Peter was writhing on the ground and Laura tore his throat out immediately,” he said quietly.

Stiles looked down at himself. There were no cuts or wounds (or bite marks) but he felt like there should be a horrible scar. His chest felt wrong, stripped bare. He curled his arms around himself and leaned into Derek’s shoulder. 

“My mom made these for me,” he said quietly.

“I know,” Derek said simply. 

Stiles refused to leave the wagon without a shirt and as none of the wolves had any clothing to offer him, Lydia offered to run all the way back to the palace for a new one. She, Erica, a large man named Boyd, and Laura had all come looking for him with Derek and none of them approached the cart as they waited, sensing the tension there. 

When Lydia came back, the sun was rising and Stiles felt bad for making the wolves stay out so late, but Derek kept reassuring him that they didn’t mind. He cut the horses free from the cart and stripped them down, riding the calmer one back to the palace while the wolves provided a wall of protection around him. 

\------------------------------

“Stiles!” Scott shouted when he got close enough. 

Stiles couldn’t bring himself to smile so he just hopped off of the horse and pulled his friends into a tight hug. Scott gasped a little and patted his chest before kissing his forehead and whispering that he was sorry and he was here if Stiles wanted to talk about it. 

Stiles didn’t let Scott leave this time. He held tightly onto his hand and tugged him towards the forest. 

“We’re going home, are you coming with us?” Stiles said loudly, staring at Derek. 

Derek shifted back and accepted the pants that Scott threw at him. 

“Ready when you are,” he said, smirking. 

“Derek, check in with us in a week or so, ok?” Laura said, pulling on her own set of trousers and tunic. 

“Yeah right,” Erica chimed in, “it’s basically their honeymoon, they’ll be lucky if they leave for food.”

Stiles was so jolted by the comment that he actually laughed. Some of the pain in his chest felt lighter knowing that he could go home and things could be good with Derek there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter left! If you've made it this far leave a comment and let me know whatyou think!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are things I don't like about how this chapter turned out, but I was too lazy to fix it.

“Alright enough,” Derek said out of nowhere while he, Scott, and Stiles were eating around a campfire their second night out in the woods. 

“Enough what?” Stiles asked, sharing a confused look with Scott.

“Get up. Now. We need to talk,” Derek said firmly, bypassing Stiles and walking into the dark woods beyond the campfire. 

Stiles looked at Scott who just shrugged unhelpfully before sighing and following. Derek walked far enough outside of their campsite that Scott wouldn’t be able to overhear them unless they started shouting which was fine with Stiles because if this was going to be ugly he figured Scott deserved the warning before they got back. 

“Derek, what? Are you ok?” Stiles asked, reaching out to touch his cheek. 

Derek lifted a hand and Stiles halted his movement, slowly dropping his hand and letting Derek gather his words. 

“You’ve been acting strangely ever since that night you got hurt and wouldn’t say what happened,” Stiles opened his mouth to speak but Derek again raised his hand to cut him off, “I was going to let you tell me about it in your own time, but then it happened again in the dining hall. Laura told me. And now you keep looking at me like you want to say something but then convince yourself not to and I’m officially out of patience. What is going on?”

Stiles hesitated. On the one hand, he knew that he was going to have to say something eventually, it was only right. On the other hand, he didn’t really know how to bring up Derek’s dead mother when he wasn’t even supposed to know what happened. 

“Stiles!” Derek snapped when he paused for too long. 

“Ok, ok. Just…maybe we should sit down or something?” he said.

Derek crossed his arms and remained where he was. Stiles sighed and figured he might as well just go for it. 

“So when someone dies violently and unpredictably, they sometimes leave behind a shadow of themselves born of the devastation and lack of resolution surrounding the circumstances of their death,” Derek raised an eyebrow but clearly didn’t see where this was going, “These shadows or spirits may cling to a familiar place, a loved one, or the person responsible for their death. Most people don’t notice their presence aside from a drop in temperature or a wave of vicarious emotion, but I can see and hear them.”

“So, what you’re saying is that there’s a ghost following you around?” Derek asked.

Stiles tapped his fingers nervously against his thighs and focused on the trees behind Derek’s head. 

“Not really. I’m saying that there was one following you around…” he mumbled.   
Derek tilted his head in confusion then sucked in a shocked breath. 

“You’re seeing my…what about the wounds?” he asked.

Stiles waved his hand in the air dismissively. 

“Spirits are single minded and stuck in the moment of their death. Your mother was trying to communicate something to me and she didn’t know how. That’s the thing though, at first I thought that her death was orchestrated by her lover, but it seems that Peter set it up. She was afraid that he would go after you and your siblings too, especially since he didn’t get her Alpha power. That’s what he did to lose your trust, right? He tried to kill Laura?”

Derek stared at Stiles, his mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something but the words were lost to him. Stiles reached out his hand again and this time Derek took it. He sent waves of comfort and support until Derek could finally find the words he needed. 

“I can’t really say that I’m surprised. It actually makes a lot of sense. So my mother, is she still…?”

Stiles shook his head.

“When Peter died her lingering concern dissolved so that part of her that was stuck here has most likely dissipated,” he said. 

Derek hummed and drew him in for a hug. 

“I guess I’m sorry that my mom clawed you bloody. She never would have done something like that before…she had amazing self-control,” he whispered.

Stiles smiled as images of the werewolf flitted across his mind, memories from Derek’s childhood.

“She loved you so much. I wish I could have met her, as I wish you could have met my mother. Actually,” he said, pulling away to look at Derek with a wry grin, “I bet you anything they would have been good friends if they ever met. They have a lot in common.”

Derek smiled slyly and tilted his head to the side. 

“So you think they would have approved of you as my mate, huh?” he asked, grinning toothily.

“I think they would have rang the wedding bells themselves. Too bad my father is a bit pickier when it comes to these things. You have your work cut out for you,” Stiles replied, pecking him on the cheek quickly and pulling away to drag him back to the fire. 

Derek groaned as he followed hand-in-hand. 

“As long as you’re there to help me I think I’ll be fine,” he said. 

“You think so, huh? I guess you don’t want to hear that you’ll need to buddy up with Scott in order to get on my dad’s good side then, right?” Stiles asked.   
Derek groaned again and Stiles smacked his arm playfully.

“The things I do for love,” he said dramatically. 

Of course, this is what Scott would hear and he huffed loudly as they sat back down around the fire, pressing against each other shoulder to shoulder. 

“You’re lucky I’m your friend, Stiles, or I would tell the Chief about how rude your boyfriend is. Better yet, I could tell my mom and she could complain,” Scott said, smiling evilly. 

“Wow, that’s a low blow, man. I’ve only caught glimpses of them but they’re getting pretty close right? Who do you think is stalling?” Stiles asked.

“They’re both waiting for the other to say something. It’s kind of painful to watch to be honest,” Scott replied.

“I’m assuming your parents have a thing going on?” Derek asked.

Stiles laughed and kissed Derek lightly on the lips, sending images of the two dancing around each other in their non-relationship.

“Me and Stiles are waiting until they get their act together and then we’ll be official brothers, instead of just spiritual ones,” Scott said. 

Derek looked thoughtfully at Scott for a long moment.

“Alright. I think I can tolerate you more that way,” he said after a while. 

Stiles laughed and Scott just shook his head. 

“I like your sisters better. I bet you hear that often,” he said smiling.

Derek laughed and didn’t respond, but Stiles could hear his thoughts flowing and he snickered because apparently yes, he did hear that often. 

*** ********************

Stiles literally skipped the last two miles to the village. As soon as he could hear the distant echo of voices and movement through the trees he felt like he could just jump into the air and fly the rest of the way. 

When they broke into the large clearing, Stiles threw his bag down and ran the rest of the way to the rows of huts. People gasped and shouted at him as he passed but he didn’t register anything that they said, his focus was completely on the man emerging from a hut near the center of the village. 

Stiles barely stopped in time to keep from bowling him over and wrapped him in a tight hug. 

_What? Stiles? How, Claudia he’s back, Melissa needs to be here, Stiles I’ve missed you, been so worried_

His dad wrapped him tightly in his arms and they just stayed like that without saying a word to each other until Scott and Derek finally caught up behind him. The chief took one look at Derek and pushed his son back so that he could look at him. 

“Stiles, what happened,” he said, gesturing to his chest.

Stiles shook his head and waved his hand dismissively.

“I’ll catch you up on everything when we go inside. But first,” he said backing up a few steps to grab onto Derek’s hand, “Dad, this is Derek Hale.”

_I’m so bad with parents, why am I doing this? Oh gods he’s glaring at me_

Stiles stifled a laugh as his father looked his lover up and down with squinted eyes. 

“I was going to ask you about him,” he said after a pause, “Why is this young man here?”

“He rescued me! He’s a werewolf and I’m his mate so I figured I should introduce you,” Stiles said without missing a beat.

_Are you serious? That’s your strategy? Stiles I swear to the gods if your father kills me because you don’t know how to break it to him slowly…_

Derek glared down at him but Stiles ignored him, smiling back at his father who sighed and scratched his head.

“You’re just like your mother, you know that?” he said fondly, “Come inside and we can all talk.”

Stiles smiled up at Derek and winked before pulling him into the large hut. 

*** *********************

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Stiles said soothingly while he lay curled up next to Derek in Melissa’s old hut. 

Derek rolled his eyes.

“Stiles, he kept looking at me like he was disappointed in my existence,” he said.

Stiles shrugged.

“It’s kind of his base look. Hey, he looks at me and Scott like that all the time!” he replied, smiling.

“I do see what you’re saying about him and Melissa though. It was like they were having a competition for who could sneak in the most longing glances during dinner. It was kind of painful to watch,” Derek said.

“See! I’m betting that they get their act together by the Summer Solstice. Scott says it’s not gonna happen until next winter,” Stiles said gleefully.

“I give it a month now that you and Scott are back. I doubt you’re going to just leave well enough alone,” Derek said, smiling.

Stiles grinned playfully and winked.

“I may have a three-part plan,” he said.

Derek laughed lightly and Stiles slipped their hands together. 

_Warm, perfect, mate, Stiles_

“Is this where you thought you’d end up when you went off to rescue me?” Stiles asked.

“Not particularly,” Derek said quietly.

_Lucky, fate, destiny_

Stiles laughed and kissed Derek sweetly, infusing it with the swirling songs of spring and the happiness that had wedged itself firmly in his chest.

“Destiny has nothing to do with it, Derek. The world is wild and unpredictable and we were just blessed with a happy ending.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone who liked this and commented or left kudos! If you haven't already, make sure you check out the amazing art that inspired this. It's linked in the first chapter and you can find the artist on tumblr.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi at [tumblr!!!](nightshadekisses.tumblr.com)


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